


Jackson Wyoming

by HollyGoPossumlovesJ2



Series: Vacation Verse [2]
Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Headaches & Migraines, Jackson Wyoming, Jensen Ackles Smut, Jensen Ackles burns dinner, Jensen Ackles fluff, Reader-Insert, Summer Vacation, abuse of marble counter tops, engagement fluff, independent reader, real life worries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 18:53:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12260112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HollyGoPossumlovesJ2/pseuds/HollyGoPossumlovesJ2
Summary: When you woke up the next day, you weren’t exactly sure what time or even what year it was, to be honest. The shades were still drawn, letting the slightest bit of light in the room, giving soft shadows to Jensen’s face.There was a warm ache spreading pleasantly in your chest, like you’d just sipped the smoothest cognac, as you watched him sleep. You loved this man, so much.He was in a deep sleep, his mouth opened slightly as he curled on his side, facing you. One hand was tucked beneath the pillow, while the other was stretched out towards you. Like he might’ve reached out to touch your face while you slept.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is cross posted on Tumblr and was an entry to Lau's Summer Escape Challenge put on by @dancingalone21.

The trip to Jackson, Wyoming had been set and organized for months ahead of time, but because of Jensen’s schedule, it had also been rescheduled more than once.

His ‘time off’ for hiatus was variable at best. There were always script readings and conventions to attend. It was still incredibly rare that he had a long stretch of time to spend doing ‘nothing’.

Jensen had been the one to choose the location this time. You’d been glad to let him since you’d been the sole focus of the last vacation at Hunting Island. It took some of the focus off of you, and for that you were grateful.

To be honest, you didn’t really care where you stayed, as long as Jensen was with you. It sounded a little stupid when you said that out loud, but you’d been with Jensen for just over 2 years now. It wasn’t hard to admit that you were still absolutely stupid over the man.

Which was probably why you were being a little anxious. Jensen had convinced you to fly up ahead of time. He’d promised to meet you that evening, but his flight had been delayed because of stormy weather in Vancouver and wouldn’t be lifting off until late that night.

As much as you tried to stay calm, to watch out for trigger foods and take all of your preventative medication, your worst fear was coming true.

You’d been dealing with migraines ever since you were a child and they were considered well controlled. That was, until the drive through the mountains (and the pressure changes) made your ears pop. Add to that the massive thunder storms that had been brewing all day… You were instantly fucked.

You’d listened to some meditation music on the way up and practiced your breathing techniques. You’d given yourself a shot of Imitrex, a vasoconstrictor that was supposed to stop a migraine before it had a chance to wind up. (The bastard injection apparatus stabbed into your skin like it was meant to power through to the other side. It left bruises on your skin for weeks) Fuck, you’d done everything to keep a migraine from ruining this trip.

However, here you were. You’d barely been able to pull the shades closed to block out what little light the dark clouds allowed in before you collapsed on the bed. 

There had been no time to explore the beautiful cabin that Jensen had gone through great lengths to pick out. You know he’d made sure your requests to have a fire place and a hot tub were met. He was just incredibly thoughtful like that.

The pain creeping up your shoulder, tensing the muscles along your neck and throbbing heavily into your left temple made you dizzy and each time you tried to move you felt like you might puke. You took a few deep, slow breaths, telling yourself that you’d get up in a minute to unpack. 

You tried to think about anything else other than the burgeoning pain that bordered on extreme. Like a lot of times like this, you thought of Jensen and your life together. Of how he never thought a dream was too big or unattainable. Of how he’d filled you with the hope and confidence that anything in this life was possible, if you truly wanted it.

You thought of his excitement about the arrangement to stay in a cabin, secluded away from almost anything for two weeks. It had seemed like an awful lot of time to spend in one place for Jensen, but he’d been excited, so you’d been excited, too.

Then, the thunder started and you felt each vibration of each thunderous clap like the storm was actually happening inside your skull. Your ears popped with the dropping barometric pressure and you willed the muscles that were painfully bunching together with tension to relax.

Visiting Jackson, Wyoming in the middle of summer wouldn’t have been your first choice because of this reason alone. Unpredictable weather.

You’d dated a few guys that couldn’t handle the ‘surprise’ migraines that inevitably showed up from time to time. But, as with most things, Jensen was very different. 

He’d blown you away with his compassion, his need to be helpful in some way. Unlike those other guys, Jensen never made you feel like it was your fault.

And how did you repay him? By getting a migraine during one of his very few escapes. Your only hope now was that it would be gone by the time he got to the cabin. 

By this stage, you’d already done everything possible to stop it or at least shorten the duration. So, you closed your eyes against the bright lightening bouncing around the room and tried not to feel like your head was caving in. 

*^*^*^*  
It took you a few fuzzy moments to register that you weren’t alone, because the rescue drugs you’d used were no joke. They were only meant to be taken when everything else failed because there was a big chance of getting a rebound headache because of them. They often made you loopy and knocked your ass out. The room was still as dark as you’d made it before falling asleep, except for the faint strip of light that poured in beneath the door. Even that little bit of light still burned your eyes.

The migraine had been taken back a few notches, but you were still only able to squint into the darkness and realize you’d ended up laying on your stomach with the side of your face mushed into the pillow.

The hand on your back was wide and warm as it rubbed in gentle swaths across your back. “Hey, darlin.” His voice was pitched low and quiet and his body moved to block the light leaking into the room. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“Mmm…” You felt very slow but relieved that your migraine was just an annoying hum as compared to the murderous, stabbing ice pick of earlier. When you spoke, it felt like your lips were twice their normal size. “S’ok.”

When you finally dragged yourself into a sitting position, with your legs hanging off the side of the bed, Jensen’s hands were pushing the hair from your eyes and cradling your face. “Looks like you had a bad one, huh? I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

You’d scoff or roll your eyes, if it wasn’t for the fact that extra expressions just weren’t in the cards and it just felt too damn good to have his hands on your face. In fact, finally having Jensen back in your orbit was almost enough to keep your sarcasm at bay. “You didn’t miss much.” 

Almost.

You heard the smile in his voice as he settled between your legs and pulled you into his arms, his chin coming to rest lightly on the top of your head. “Always such a brat.” One of his warm hands found your neck, his fingers digging into the tight muscles, causing you to tip forward and groan appreciatively into his shoulder.

God, you could just stay here in this exact spot for the rest of your damn life, cradled in Jensen’s arms while he rubbed your tension away. You were like a marionette with its strings cut when he was finished with you.

“How about,” he began in barely above a whisper, like he was afraid to disturb the peace himself. “I’ll make us some lavender tea, we’ll get you another dose of meds and maybe read a little?”

The lavender tea was something that Jensen used himself to help with his anxiety and trouble sleeping at night and you loved that he would use the same things to take care of you when he could. The entire offer of comfort sounded fantastic, and you were already picturing how you’d get comfortable. 

Jensen would likely be sitting up and you’d find yourself tucked up close, your head on his warm thigh, listening while he read to you. If it wasn’t a heavy book, he’d run his fingers through your hair and lightly massage your scalp. There were times that your head hurt too bad for any of this to feel nice, but luckily tonight was not one of them.

It was a tradition that he’d started at the very beginning of the relationship and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy hearing the gravely cadence of his voice. You’d often buy two of the same book so that you could read over the phone, if time permitted in the evening before bed.

“Aren’t you sleepy?” You reluctantly pulled back so that you could see his face, worry and guilt pulling at you because it was Jensen who’d had to work all day. It was Jensen who’d had to wait in the airport for his delayed flight. This was his vacation, too. However, due to the limited light in the room, you were only able to see the outline of his mussed hair.

“Nah, to be honest I’m still a little wired. I can just let you sleep if you-.”

“No.” Jensen might have chuckled at your enthusiastic answer as you tucked yourself back into his arms, your face buried in his chest. However, as the faded scent of his aftershave and the warm, suffuse scent of his skin filled your nose, you couldn’t bring yourself to be embarrassed in the slightest.

^*^*^*^*^  
When you woke up the next day, you weren’t exactly sure what time or even what year it was, to be honest. The shades were still drawn, letting the slightest bit of light in the room, giving soft shadows to Jensen’s face.

There was a warm ache spreading pleasantly in your chest, like you’d just sipped the smoothest cognac, as you watched him sleep. You loved this man, so much.

He was in a deep sleep, his mouth opened slightly as he curled on his side, facing you. One hand was tucked beneath the pillow, while the other was stretched out towards you. Like he might’ve reached out to touch your face while you slept.

Yeah, you were still hung over from the migraine, your brain synapses seeming sluggish and a little befuddled. But, damn if Jensen laying there, open and soft, didn’t get to you.

You settled on your side to face him, your noses only inches apart, and took a moment to just take him in. It was a little silly, how you felt this way each time you were reunited with him. How you had to acclimate yourself to being in his gravitational field again. 

You noticed how his long eye lashes etched perfectly symmetrical lines on his cheek. With fondness, you noted how the way his face was smashed into the pillow made his lips into an exaggerated pout. You couldn’t help but to reach out a couple of fingers to push the few wayward hairs off of his forehead. Just for an excuse to touch him.

A memory of visiting him on set for the first time lazily wove its way into your conscious thought and brought a smile to your face. He’d been like an excited kid, dragging you to the different parts of set and introducing you to the crew. 

You’d never forget how he’d complained about the cowlick on his forehead with an adorably scrunched nose, like you would ever think he had any imperfections. It was clear, while one of the makeup girls sprayed intense amounts of hair spray to keep it spiked, that she was thinking the same thing.

 

You happened to love that little cowlick he loathed so much. You liked what it represented now. That when he was home, his cowlick wasn’t ever entirely tamed. It usually meant he was product free and relaxed, here with you.

“It’s not polite to stare.” Came his groggy voice, his fingers stretched out to play with your bottom lip.

“Can’t help it.” You answered, unabashedly. There was no use in denying how you felt about him, you knew you were extremely transparent. “If you could tone down the handsome just a little, I might still be able to function around you.”

“Mmm…” You think he may have meant the noise to be ascent, but it came out as nearly a growl as he rooted against the pillow for a moment as if he could wipe the grogginess from his face.

“I didn’t mean to wake you up. Go back to sleep.” You let your hand migrate over his shoulder and down his arm in a soothing cadence. When he turned to face you with a raised eyebrow, his hair was a complete ruffled, fucking adorable mess.

“You’re just saying that so you can keep me in bed all day.” The deep, gritty resonance of his voice shouldn’t have been able to affect you with the amount of residual medication still in your system. However, the challenging look in his eyes paired with that middle of the night, sex voice? 

“Guilty.”

His smile was dazzling, or what you saw of it before he couldn’t keep his hands to himself anymore and pulled you into his bubble of personal space. 

You couldn’t help the way your body scooted in even closer so that you could rest your lips against the skin of his freckled chest. How any space left between the two of you was the enemy and needed to be vanquished by any means necessary as he held you even tighter.

He hummed, his appreciation of your proximity a rumble in his chest and beginning to swell against your thigh, blood warm and inviting. “Your plan is working.” He mumbled before he ducked down to take your lips in a lazy but incendiary kiss. 

For a moment you were swept up in the feeling of his lush mouth and the way your bodies moved even closer together. Like melting scoops of ice cream, you merged into one ubiquitous puddle of goo.

His palm and fingers were flat against you, sliding reverently from your shoulders and downward, creating a pleasant thrill as his guitar callouses consecrated your skin like a holy man’s most sacred text. 

 

His moan of pleasure was a quiet sigh, received in your mouth like communion when you bent your leg to rest up and over his hip, to hold him closer to where you wanted him. His fingers flexed against the small of your back to hold you to him.

He was nearly breathless when he broke away, only separating far enough to rest his forehead on yours. His lips continued to feather against your face in soft, barely there kisses between catching his breath. “I missed you. I missed you so much.” 

Your hand was immediately running through the hair on the back of his neck, holding him close as he buried his face in the crook of your neck and shoulder. It would tickle, the way he was breathing you in, if you weren’t instantly concerned by his tone of voice, by the way he wouldn’t let any space between you. “Jay…”

He took a moment and continued to breathe, his hands still unable to hold you and touch you enough. It was almost like he was embarrassed and hiding his face from you. 

He took one last deep breath, the feel of it breezing past your heat flushed skin caused goose bumps to pop up all over before he pulled away only far enough to be able to speak. You were resting cheek to cheek now, his eyelashes brushing softly against your skin with his every blink.

“I’m sorry.” He pulled in another deep, cleansing breath, but continued to speak barely above whisper before you could ask him why. “I know it’s my fault that we’re separated all the time. It’s my career and it’s my commitments and I have no right to feel this way. And you…” He nuzzled the sensitive skin right below your ear. “You’re fine. You’re so independent and you don’t even need me, but I… I need you. It’s harder and harder to leave you, every time I have to do it.”

The warm, smooth ache you’d been carrying in your chest since you’d woken up burst into something sharp with jagged edges at the sound of his distress. You urged him away from his hiding spot, your hands on either side of his face. You swore there was a loud, physical crack in your heart as you saw the pain mirrored in his eyes.

“I know you can’t put your life on hold for me. I don’t want you to be stuck just following me around from place to place, but maybe we could try. Just something different from this? I need more of you in my life. I want it to be our life, not just mine and yours every couple of weeks and a summer break. I want to m-.”

It could’ve been ‘I want to marry you’ or ‘I want to murder you.’ It’s possible he might’ve said ‘I want to make a fucking decoupage’, but you couldn’t hold back from trying to soothe the pain he’d just cracked open between you as you kissed the words right out of his mouth.

You’d always been wary of the constitution of marriage. You’d seen it more as a type of restraint, like a literal ball and chain would be weighing you down for eternity. Restriction from being able to do your own thing, to make your own life and be your own person. But over the two years you’d spent with Jensen, he’d turned every assumption you’d ever had about it on its head.

He rolled you both over in a quick move, propped up by his elbows to hover over you as you spread your thighs for him without a second thought. You couldn’t see the flush of his skin or the dark pink of his blood filled cock as it seared like a brand against your skin. The room was too dark for that still, but you could see the outline of what your fingers had done to his hair. You could see how his body moved with each breath, more labored than the one before.

You couldn’t look away from the broken open, honest look on his face when he slowly, but insistently slotted inside you. His eyes were wide and bright, his lips slightly parted as he refused to look away. 

This time, it wasn’t about how many orgasms you could have or how hard you could make him come. His thrusts were sure and deep as he gathered you up in his arms. 

This was about connection and reassurance and finally having what you had waited weeks to have. What your hand and all the sex toys in the world couldn’t bring you.

You lost yourself in the slow burn of it, in the way he moved on top of you. Your hands on his back felt every twitch and bunch of muscle under sweaty skin. You tasted the salt of him on your lips and inhaled the musky scent of your bodies joined together in the humid air between you.

You were already on edge, already so close before he thread his sweaty, shaking fingers through yours beside your head on the pillow. It was being fully connected from head to toe, paired with Jensen’s unerring ability to hit your sweet spot like a bullseye in the dark, that flooded you with the pleasure of orgasm.

It was the sound of your name gasped on his lips, the way his breath caught in his throat and the way he squeezed your hand with his as he pulsed and shivered inside you that drove the ecstasy even higher. 

When you finally came back to yourself, feeling hazy with satisfaction, you couldn’t have moved even if you had wanted to.

Jensen hadn’t moved an inch, still shivering, his muscles still twitching after a very satisfying orgasm. He pressed his lips softly along your throat before he buried his face in your neck with a deeply satisfied sigh. 

Could your migraine be triggered because of your extraordinary pleasure? Absolutely. Could you bring yourself to care at all? It was safe to say that zero fucks were given. 

At that moment you knew that no matter what came in the next hour, the next week or even the next year that you could handle it as long as Jensen was by your side.

However, as you fell asleep again later with Jensen’s warm body holding you from behind, you had plenty to think about. Like, if you hadn’t jumped the gun, out of terror or enthusiasm about whatever ‘M’ word was about to tumble out of his beautiful mouth, what would he have said? Were you really at that point in the relationship? Was Jensen serious about wanting to start a life with you?

More importantly, were you marriage material? What, with your migraines and your propensity to run at any sign of commitment above shacking up together?

You sighed, burying your face in the soft, down pillow that Jensen had probably gone great lengths to make sure were provided and took a really long, hard look at your life. Could you really do this? Above that, was it possible that you were obsessing about something that wasn’t even a real possibility?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen starts to act strange in the middle of your vacation with him and you start to assume the worst.

Even though the vacation had gotten off to a rocky start, like always, you and Jensen were able to make the most of it. Since the fiasco at Hunting Island, Jensen had been working really hard on adapting and letting some things roll off of his back.

You’d both been able to explore Jackson with very little disturbance. You’d walked through the downtown area, shopped at the all of the quirky little shops along the way. You’d stopped at a quaint cabin style restaurant that had a steak that was to die for, to eat lunch. Food was a big focus because Jensen had sworn off watching what he ate and that he would do a juice cleanse with Jared when he got back.

Did it bother you that Jensen had a best friend that he did pretty much everything together? No. You were glad that he had such great support while he was away from home. Did you find yourself getting a tiny bit jealous on occasion? Maybe a little, but it was usually fleeting at most. Jensen was very good at always making you feel special, even when you didn’t especially feel special.

In your explorations, you’d stopped at a bakery named Cocolove and taken some pastries and chocolate delicacies for later consumption. Maybe you’d eat them with Jensen on the quiet wrap around porch the next afternoon. Or maybe you’d find out what each sweet tasted like directly off of Jensen’s beautiful, freckled skin that night. 

The possibilities were endless.

You were able to enjoy the horseback riding that followed a beautiful trail through grassy plains and around tall plateaus. The sight of Jensen in a pair of dark wash jeans that were heavily worn in a way that wrapped deliciously around his thighs was practically mouthwatering. The way he sat with absolute confidence on his buckskin Quarter horse was a sight you wouldn’t soon forget.

That had only been the first few days of your vacation together and there was a week and a half more of it to go. It might’ve sounded a little jam packed, but there was plenty of time spent around the cabin, too. You’d spent hours in the hot tub, wrapped around each other, sipping on chilled champagne. One evening you’d both fallen asleep in front of the lit fireplace.

It was all more than you would’ve ever expected or hoped for. Jensen had been so excited to explore and try new things that you couldn’t help mirroring his enthusiasm.

However, when Jensen said that he would be preparing a meal on his own Friday night you were a little suspicious. Not because he wanted to try his hand at a recipe, because occasionally he just wanted to try something new. No, it was more that he seemed nervous, which wasn’t a trait that you’d experienced with him very often.

Yes, he’d been nervous before when he’d asked you to go on a date with him, oh so long ago. You’d seen him be nervous about a part or maybe a difficult script. But this… this had you watching him carefully. 

You’d watched him become more and more jumpy as the week had progressed. He would sneak off for an hour or two to be off on his own. Often you’d find him behind a locked door in the bedroom, his voice a low rumble as he spoke to someone on the phone. You could never make out any words, not that you were one to eavesdrop, but he now had you extremely worried.

What had he worried about in the past few years that he hadn’t been able to share with you?

You’d gone back to the couch by the time he emerged, looking like he’d nearly ripped his hair out by the roots.

“I’m gonna get started on dinner, so…” His eyes darted to land on anything in the room but you.

You finally couldn’t keep the concern to yourself anymore. “Are you okay, Jensen?”

It was then that your eyes connected, a deep blush settled on his cheeks and the smile he gave you was breath taking as always. “Yeah.”

 

“Do you want any help?” Baffled didn’t even begin to describe how you were feeling.

“Sure.”

*^*^*^*^*^*  
It turned out that Jensen’s version of ‘help’ was keeping your hands off of everything and keeping him company instead. Which, to be honest, didn’t bother you too much because you were shit at putting anything together that was even remotely edible and Jensen knew it. 

One of the many things that made you crazy about the man was that not only did he not mind that you were shit at domesticity, but that you marched to the beat of your own drum. He didn’t question when you were able to fix things for yourself, rather than come running to him for help.

You’d learned to be self-sufficient as early as possible. Because of that, you’d run into many men who had a problem with the fact that you wanted them in your life, but didn’t necessarily need them. You thought it was ridiculous to have to shove yourself into some mold so that some man would love you.

But after a slew of horrible relationships, Jensen had literally fallen into your lap.

No, really. You’d been having breakfast with a friend, opting to dine outside because the weather was nice in the early Fall in Austin, TX. There had been a light breeze blowing through the leaves beginning to change in the little trees that lined the main road.

He had come out of nowhere, it had seemed, tripping over his own feet. The Americano coffee in his hand had spilled all over your clothes, but was luckily not quite scorching. However, you hadn’t really been able to focus on your uncomfortable state because you were a little (a lot) entranced. Jensen was balanced precariously, with his ass on the table and his hands on your thigh. His eyes were level with yours, bright green and wide with surprise and a healthy dose mortification when the shock wore off.

If you’d heard the story from Jensen’s point of view, he’d be sure to tell you that it hadn’t been about his clumsy feet, but more about Jared’s big hands that had pushed him. It had been the second time they’d walked past and Jared had noticed the way Jensen’s eyes paid more attention to you than where he was headed. They’d been on hiatus and making their way back home from getting a coffee from the Starbucks on 6th St.

God bless Jared Padalecki.

He’d offered you the use of a clean shirt he had in his gym bag in his car. You hadn’t had the heart to tell him that your bra, soaked in coffee, was going to be seen through the white t shirt he offered. But, you’d taken it, because it might’ve made the walk to your studio apartment a little less uncomfortable.

There had been awkward exchanges and a meeting to return the shirt and grab a cup of coffee. I mean, you were there anyway, right? Then there was mentions of making it up to you with dinner and well… As the saying goes, the rest is history.

Jensen was used to you spending most of your time with your head in the clouds. (Hello, writer here.) So, he hadn’t said anything about you being abnormally quiet as you watched him fidget with something in his pocket while he worked. So far, you’d spent most of the time seated on the kitchen island, legs swinging back and forth with the extra nervous energy Jensen’s behavior continued to contribute to.

He’d poured a glass of spicy merlot that you’d both been heavily sipping on, trying to muscle through the intensely uncomfortable atmosphere created by whatever was bothering him. In spite of all that, it was fun to watch the blush caused by the alcohol travel from his neck, to his cheeks and then the tips of his ears while he worked.

Occasionally, he would stand between your legs and feed you samples of the sauce he was putting together, his eyebrow arched in question for your opinion. When he was close, you would try to pull him in closer. You’d try to work your fingers into the tense muscles of his shoulders. But he wouldn’t stay still long enough for it to do any good and you were running out of patience.

“Okay, Jay. What’s going on? You know you can tell me anything, right?” You tried to make eye contact with him, but he was very good at avoiding. Especially when he could turn his back to you and pay attention to the pots boiling on the stove. “I mean; I can tell something’s wrong…” You trailed off, trying to deny yourself the urge to chew on your finger nails. “Is it something with us? Have I done something wrong?”

You were at a point in your life that you weren’t too keen on changing who you were just to make some man happy, but Jensen wasn’t just ‘some man.’ In fact, he’d effortlessly broken through all of your misgivings. So, if there was something in particular that he’d found offensive, there was a chance that you’d consider changing things around.

“I just… We were having a good time at the beginning of the week. I know I had that stupid headache, but I got rid of it and I thought that things were going well…” You were rambling and utterly pathetic. Not to mention so wrapped up in what could be going wrong and so focused on what was going on in your own head that Jensen suddenly being in your personal space was a surprise.

“Hey, no. It’s not that at all.” His hands were immediately reaching out to touch. To smooth over your shoulders and down your arms before he held your hands in his. After a deep sigh and the roll of his eyes he muttered, “I’m ruining it.”

You were stunned into silence. All self-involvement forgotten as you registered the miserable look on Jensen’s face. “What?” You were reaching out to pull him closer, to get your hands on his warm sides before you even registered what you were doing. “Jay, what are you talking about?” 

His small laugh was humorless, “I thought about this so much. I figured that if I went all out and made a ginormous deal about it that you might be intimidated or even scared. So, then, I thought we’d spend a night in with just the two of us because you seem to like to spend time with me in this way. I thought…” His eyes finally connected with yours as he reached out to touch your cheek. “I thought I’d do something nice for us and then casually ask you.”

You were confused and utterly terrified. If he had been trying to communicate something without completely rocking your world, he was failing. This had to be it, then. The moment when all of your weird quirks and extreme independence had finally gotten to him. Plus, the invisible destruction of migraines couldn’t be helping matters. Shit.

“I didn’t want to put any pressure on you and now I realize that I have without even having to try so hard. So, I’m just gonna ask, right now. No matter what your answer is, we’ll have a nice dinner and we’ll forget this entire awkward night even happened, okay?”

He seemed desperate for your compliance, and who were you to make Jensen desperate? So you nodded slowly, watching as the green of his eyes changed shades with the lighting in the room. 

He was even closer now, wedged between your thighs with both hands on your face, his lips soft on yours. He didn’t pull back very far, the soft pants of his breath gentle on your skin. “Y/N, will you marry me?” You knew his smile was bashful and a little self-deprecating. “I promise I don’t want you to be barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen. We can get a cook or something so I know you’re getting some nutrition but… I don’t care how we do it. I just want you, with me. Always.”

The soft, sweet words were like a glancing blow. The hit wasn’t direct or nearly as painful as you’d geared yourself up to receive. The question terrified you, making your heart thunder in your chest, your flight response kick in, making your breath choppy and your skin sweat. 

But, that wasn’t all. 

There was a surprising amount of giddy happiness bubbling up from your chest and threatening to come out as a laugh that you knew would be misinterpreted. You’d dreaded but simultaneously dreamed of this the moment you realized that Jensen was not just a fling. When you’d realized that you loved this man with all the stupid, damaged bits of your heart.

You pulled away, needing to see the sincerity that you knew would be radiating from his eyes like the man was made of all things good in this world. He didn’t disappoint, but you also saw the suffocating fear that made his pupils dilate and your heart ache.

“Yes, Jay. God, ye-.” His lips were on yours before you could finish saying the words. His body and mouth were crushing against yours with all of the pent up anxiety and fear that Jensen had been putting you both through for the past couple of days.

Your arms were around him, just as crushingly tight as your hands thread through his hair to angle his face so that you could kiss him a little deeper. So that you could get just that little bit closer to the warm, solid, (and so damn good smelling) form of Jensen in your arms.

He whispered curses with each gasped breath between kisses before he was able to pull the ring he’d been hanging onto for months, out of his pocket. He wordlessly slid the precious metal, warmed by the time it had spent in his pocket, onto your ring finger. You marveled at it only long enough to think fleetingly that it was gorgeous before you were kissing him again with every molecule of love and happiness you had in your body.

You slid to the edge of the counter, wrapping your legs around his hips and could feel that Jensen was hard in his jeans. The firm pressure caused him to grip the back of your shirt in his fists and groan into your mouth. He pressed in closer, his hands pressing in to grip your ass, rocking his hips against you in a move that made him growl. “Fuck, that ring looks so good on you.” 

You found that you were skilled in pushing your hands between the two of you and pulling the button on his jeans loose. You dragged the zipper down slowly, relishing in the rapid increase of Jensen’s breath as the tiny vibrations against his dick made him squirm.

Everything progressed rapidly after that. Jensen dragged your shorts and panties down in one move, letting his jeans fall to his ankles. He didn’t even pull his boxer briefs down below his ass before he was pulling you to the very edge of the counter and lining himself up. The coolness of the granite beneath your bare ass cheeks barely registered before he was sliding in.

The slow push and immediate feeling of ‘full’ pushed the air out of your lungs and you clung to him just to stay upright. He was so wound up and so were you. Who knew that agreeing to marry someone sometime in the future could be such an aphrodisiac.

He had his hand in your hair and every time he thrust his hips, he tugged and sent a hot blaze of pleasure straight to your core. You could hear things being knocked off the counter, loud crashes of glassware falling to the ground, but none of it mattered. All that mattered was that Jensen was nailing you to the counter like his life depended on it.

It was all over rather quickly when Jensen’s thumb squeezed between your bodies to rub your clit in time with his thrusts. His breath was ragged and humid as he continued to press in close, his lips resting against your ear.

It rarely ever happened this way, but the desperation of the moment had you both orgasming at the same time. You vaguely recognized that he was shaking apart, the gasped sound of your name muffled tightly against your neck.

You were still coming down, your breathing still heavy in your chest, when Jensen chuckled. The sound was rough and that combined with the absolute fucked out tone of his voice when he said, “Well, there goes the deposit,” caused latent pleasure to shiver in your belly.

You took a moment to compose yourself, the flood of pleasure giving way to absolute wonder in the moment. You leaned your face away, unwilling to move the rest of you and lose the connection of every part of him possible. “You really wanna marry me?”

“Yeah,” He gently grazed your nose with his, breaths still tickling your face, before he rested his forehead against yours. “I really wanna marry you.”

There would be time for you to freak out over your quick response. For you to think through every little thing Jensen said to look for clues that he wasn’t being honest. You’d probably have to ask him every now and then, even after you were married to him, if he was sure he’d made the right choice. But for now, you let him slide you off the ruined marble counter top and carry you off to bed.

It would be about ten minutes into a well-deserved cuddle that Jensen would realize he’d left dinner to ruin on the stove. He would return in only moments, after turning the burners off and taking a second to look at the ruined pots, to curl around you. “Well, I guess we’d lost the deposit anyway… How do you feel about pizza from town?”

You could tell that there was an underlying tension from things not going as Jensen had planned. Maybe he was even feeling a little guilty, as crazy as that sounded, for ruining dinner and having to do something like grabbing a pizza last minute. However, you could also tell that he was trying his best to let it go. How could he not know that these little imperfections were what made this special?

You rolled around to face him, feeling all of his warm, soft skin against yours since you’d ditched your clothes on your way to the bedroom. “Pizza sounds amazing.” You held his olive green gaze a little longer than was strictly necessary, but he seemed to get what you were trying to communicate. That, it was alright that things didn’t go as planned. That you were just grateful as fuck to be in his arms and be able to share a moment like this with him.

Maybe you’d have a chance to put this into words soon, but it would have to be after this nap because you were completely pleasure dazed. Just maybe, it would be over the first slice of pizza since you’d agreed to marry the best man you’d ever known.


End file.
